Back to Existence
by amandamjb
Summary: Rimmer has to do one thing. Just one. How hard can it be?


Setting: just after Rimmer is left trapped in a different dimension from his Dwarf cohorts. Rimmer is lying on the floor, having apparently been knocked out by one of the Skutters.

"What the smeg…." Rimmer muttered to himself. "Feels like I've spent a week living in Lister's underwear drawer. Without an oxygen mask". He picked himself up and saw the Grim Reaper standing nearby. Following their last encounter, the Reaper is now sporting a strategically placed guard around his waist. "Rimmer" he said. "About our last meeting…." Rimmer gulped. He hadn't been so nervous since he'd once asked his brothers to play Bulldog. Which had been alright till he realised it involved an actual dog. "Few people surprise me" the Reaper continued. "So, I have decided to give you one last chance. One chance to prove yourself". Rimmer considered this. Stay here alone, on a ship that seemed about to fall apart? Then again, that was pretty much every day on the Dwarf. Still, being alone was becoming tedious. "Alright, miladdo" he answered. "What do I have to do"? The Reaper smiled. It wasn't a pretty sight. However, having once had the misfortune to encounter Lister clad only in his off-white underwear and air guitaring to 'Sweet Child of Mine' it could have been worse. "Simple" was the answer. "All you have to do is perform one deed. One selfless deed." "That's it?" Rimmer asked. "That's all I have to do? Well that's not so hard" The Reaper looked back, then away. "Should have put a bet on this one" he muttered to himself.

…

Rimmer awoke to find himself in a familiar situation. He was sitting in a Wild West saloon, opposite a despondent Kryten, who looked as though someone had replaced his entire supply of cleaning products with only Cillit Bang. "It's no use" he said to Rimmer. "I have to face them". "Who?" asked Rimmer. "The Four Horsemen of course" replied a surprised Kryten. "That's why we're here. Don't you remember?" Rimmer didn't. He did know that they had been here before and it had worked out, hadn't it? "Look, Kryten" he said. "All you have to do is use the doves. Then you can pass on the virus and disrupt the Apocalypse Boys". Kryten looked blankly at him. "What doves?" he asked. "Doves? Are you mad, Mr Rimmer sir? What good are doves against guns and bullets?". "But we're in the AR machine" Rimmer persisted. "We don't need guns". Again Kryten was less than keen, "Sir, what on earth are you talking about, an AR machine?" Rimmer realised with a jolt what was happening, or at least partly. There was no dove virus here; someone had to stand up to the Apocalypse Boys and face them. He gulped. It was definitely a new underwear required situation.

….

Two days later Rimmer and Kryten found themselves outside in the dusty street, contemplating the arrival of the Apocalypse Boys. "What happened to the others" Rimmer asked. Kryten didn't turn, but kept watching the small wooden arch which marked the border of the town. "Dead" he replied. "Mr Lister was first, then the Cat. Both of them tried to stop the Horsemen because I wasn't brave enough". Kryten looked shaken. He wasn't capable of taking on a Skutter with an attitude problem, let alone four homicidal horsemen. Rimmer thought about what he could do. "I'll go" he said , the words even surprising himself more than they did Kryten. "I'll face them". Kryten was aghast. "Sir, are you sure?" he asked. "You don't even like the idea of confronting a talking till in a supermarket". Rimmer composed his face, just like he did when his mother used to ask about his 'career' aspirations. "Come on, car bonnet head" he said to Kryten. "Let's get to work".

…..

Rimmer was nervous. Forget that damned astronavigation exam or the dread of school sports days, this was worse than any of that. How had he ended up sitting on a damn horse? The short, stocky black and white horse wasn't even that impressive. "If I have to do this, couldn't I at least have one that looks a bit…well…more impressive? he'd asked. Kryten had vetoed it. "This is the Wild West sir" he'd said. "Not the Kentucky Derby". So Rimmer sat there, on the horse that would much rather have been eating copious amounts of hay than standing there knowing its rider would rather be anywhere else. Then there was a rumbling, the sound of hooves across sand. Kryten and Rimmer looked up and both saw the ominous sight of the Four Horsemen galloping towards them. Shutters were slammed closed and even the tumbleweeds had gone into hiding. The horse of the Apocalypse Boys thundered into view and stopped mere feet from Rimmer and Kryten. The lead rider dismounted, threw his reins over a post and walked slowly towards the pair. He spat out on the ground and looked directly at them. Kryten tugged at Rimmer's sleeve. "Sir, sir….". Rimmer didn't move. "What, Kryten?" he snapped. "Well, I don't mean to be forward, Mr Rimmer, but I think it's our turn". Rimmer gulped, and then again as he watched the Horsemen toy with their weapons. Suddenly he kicked the horse into life and spun it around. The rope flew helplessly out of Kryten's hands and he was left choking on dust as Rimmer half galloped, half hung on for dear life somewhere around the horse's neck. Kryten looked up at the Horsemen, with their guns trained on him. "Come on sirs" he began. "I'm sure we can work this out…". His words were cut short by a blast of gunfire that even the rapidly retreating Rimmer could hear clearly as he less than gallantly galloped away.

…..

Rimmer awoke to see the Reaper. He was smiling. That wasn't good. ""Well, Rimmer" he began. "I'm sorry to say you failed". Rimmer sat despondently as he realised what that meant. Then he had a thought. "When I try to help, it always seems to go wrong" he said to himself. He drew himself up to his full height, looked the Reaper straight in the eye and said "Best of two?" The Reaper considered this idea for a moment. "Alright" he said. "One more chance. Which friend will you try and save this time?". "Neither" Rimmer said with just the faintest evidence of a smirk. "Neither?" The Reaper wasn't expecting that. It was Rimmer's turn to smile. "Sorry miladdo" he began "All I'm going to do is sit here and do nothing". He sat on the floor of the ship, ignoring the explosions and rumblings that could be heard from far below. The Reaper walked away. Rimmer shut his eyes and tried to shut out everything that was happening. The smoke, dirt and noise seemed to fade away and he opened his eyes to see the Cat, Kryten and Lister peering curiously at him. "You alright, man?" asked the Cat. "Only you were out for so long, we thought flares might be in danger of coming back into fashion". Lister looked equally worried. "Plus, if you're not here, who do I have to outrank?" Rimmer didn't look at either of them, or the sight of Kryten in a fetching pink frilled apron and matching hat with the obligatory feather duster. "Smeg off, all of you. The Smeghead's back!"


End file.
